


if all you wanted was me, i'd give you nothing less

by brawls (brawlite), ToAStranger



Series: i'll be coming for your love (okay?) [10]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Makeup Sex, sweet make-up blowies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 16:39:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17707883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brawlite/pseuds/brawls, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToAStranger/pseuds/ToAStranger
Summary: Billy groans and pushes himself upright, dragging his hands over his face, blinking tired eyes until the empty apartment around him comes into focus.It’s not a disaster like it could be. It’s clean, because Billy hasn’t much wanted to do anything else other than stay in. Keep busy. Clean like he’s doing something. Organize and purge and declutter. So, yeah, the apartment’s fine. It’s probably cleaner than it has been in months.The problem is, it’s Billy who’s the disaster.





	if all you wanted was me, i'd give you nothing less

**Author's Note:**

> These last two installments to this series have been sitting finished in my drive for so long, I'm so sorry.

It’s half-past  _ whenever _ when Billy wakes up on the couch, head screaming loud enough to rouse him out of a hungover sleep, pain throbbing in his skull each time his heart beats. 

The light in the living room says that it’s mid-afternoon. His phone would probably say the same, but it died last night, battery drained, and he just hadn’t bothered to plug it in. There’s no real point in charging the thing, when the only person who Billy  _ wants _ to answer his texts won’t even  _ open _ them. 

Billy groans and pushes himself upright, dragging his hands over his face, blinking tired eyes until the empty apartment around him comes into focus.

It’s not a disaster like it  _ could _ be. It’s clean, because Billy hasn’t much wanted to do anything  _ else _ other than stay in. Keep busy. Clean like he’s  _ doing _ something. Organize and purge and declutter. So, yeah, the apartment’s  _ fine _ . It’s probably cleaner than it has been in months. 

The problem is, it’s  _ Billy _ who’s the disaster. 

And, like, he  _ shouldn’t _ be, because this isn’t at all the worst thing to ever happen to him, he  _ knows _ that, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t  _ feel _ like it right now. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel  _ crushed _ . 

Like Steve  _ leaving _ , just fucking packing his bags and  _ taking off _ before they even got a  _ chance _ to talk about it, to make it work? Billy doesn’t even know what to do with that. 

All he knows is that Steve’s  _ gone _ and Billy feels like he took the ground with him, leaving Billy dizzy and unstable and absolutely  _ lost _ . Like he just can’t find his footing. 

Coffee barely even helps, but he drinks it anyway, after he pulls himself off the couch, making it strong and black and bitter.

The sound of a key in the lock has him halfway off the couch before he even  _ realizes  _ it -- but Max’s voice has him stilling  _ instantly _ , stomach dropping in disappointment. 

“Wow,” she says, as she closes the door behind her. “I kind of expected to find this place a wreck. Or, like, to find your dead body, or something.”

“Go  _ away _ ,” Billy says. 

His head’s still  _ killing _ him.

“You _ don't _ want greasy breakfast burritos?” Max asks, rustling a bag, like he's an excitable dog. 

Billy groans. “I  _ guess _ you can stay.”

When he reaches out, Max puts the burrito into his hands, tinfoil still warm. 

Max plops down onto the couch next to him, tearing into her own burrito with a vigor that makes Billy think maybe she's hungover too. She knocks her sneakers up onto the coffee table, even when Billy smacks at her thigh. 

“Alright, asshole. What's going on? Other than the obvious.”

“Hell if I know,” Billy says. “Other than everything’s gone to shit.”

“You're so fuckin’ dramatic,” Max says around a mouthful. 

“Look, can you like, either let me be miserable, or just fuck off? I don’t need you calling me  _ dramatic _ , I’ve already  _ got _ a headache.”

Max huffs. “Yeah but, like, you _ are _ . It's not like Steve isn't gonna _ come back _ .”

“You sure about that?” Billy asks.

“Uh, yeah? All his shit is still here? He can only crash on Dustin’s futon for so long?”

Billy chews, swallows, and then  _ stares _ at Max. “He’s been at  _ Dustin’s _ ?”

“Duh. Where _ else _ would he be?”

“Donno,” Billy says, shrugging. “Staying in a hotel or -- I don’t know, Max.”

Just  _ gone _ , Billy thinks. 

“Well, okay, yeah. He did that, the first few days, but Dustin tracked him down.” Max shrugs. “He doesn't do well by himself. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Billy says. “I know.”

Billy doesn’t do well by himself  _ either _ , but that had been a fun new discovery that he’d made.

“So. What happened? You guys fight or something?” Max eyes him, chewing slow.

Billy  _ looks _ at her. Doesn’t know how she doesn’t  _ know _ already. Thinks  _ maybe _ she’s just pretending not to, just to be an asshole, or something.

And he  _ wants _ to be angry about it, but he just can’t bring himself to put in the effort. It’s like the feeling’s there, but all numb, stuck between his ribs like it’s drowning.

“He thinks I don’t love him,” Billy says, finishing off the last bite of his burrito and leaning back against the couch.

Max winces. “Oh,  _ ouch _ . That's not good.”

“Who could have guessed  _ friends with benefits _ was a shitty call?” Billy says sarcastically. Then he groans and shuts his eyes, letting his head fall back onto the back of the couch. 

“Um. I did? Dumbass.”

“Yeah, but you also told me to ride his dick,  _ so _ .”

“I told you to  _ date him _ . Fuck him, ask him out, and live happily ever after.” Max flicks her wrapper at him. “Not pretend you aren't head over heels while fucking him on the side.”

“I wasn’t fucking him  _ on the side _ ,” Billy says. “I was only fucking him. I haven’t had sex with anyone else in -- months.”

“ _ Okay,  _ but did you tell _ him _ that?”

“I didn’t get a  _ chance _ . He wouldn’t fucking talk to me and then he  _ left _ , and I’m not about to fucking  _ leave him a message _ \-- he never checks those  _ anyway _ \-- telling him,  _ Come back, also, by the way, I love you.” _

_ “Billy _ ,” Max smacks at him. “I mean, did you tell him _ at all _ . Ever. You've been crushing on him since _ high school _ .”

“Yeah,  _ thanks _ ,” he says, “really helpful  _ now _ , thanks.”

Max rolls her eyes, shoving off the couch. “Don't be a  _ bitch _ , Billy. I  _ told _ you to tell him.”

“Life isn't that  _ simple, _ Maxine,” Billy says, sighing. “Look, how was I supposed to know he -- whatever. I didn't wanna fuck shit up.”

“I know,” she sighs, stuffing their trash in a bag, padding to the kitchen, and shoving it inside the can under the sink. “You don't wanna fuck it up.  So. You know where he is, now. What are you still _ doing _ here?”

“Yeah, because I think he'd be  _ real _ happy with me showing up at Dustin's.”

And Billy  _ knows _ he's right, knows Steve would feel a little betrayed. But he wonders if it would be worth it. 

“Okay -- how many nights this week have you gotten, like, blackout drunk?” Max asks. 

Billy shrugs. “Donno.” 

What  _ day _ is it?

“Look, it's not like you're doing any  _ better _ than him! You've got nothing to lose, buddy.”

“Uh  _ yeah _ ,” Billy says. “His  _ friendship _ .”

“Christ, Billy.” Max sighs. “Look, the way I see it, you've got two options: wait and see if he comes back on his own, or go and get him.”

“Fine,” Billy says, even though the thought makes his heart thud loudly in his chest. “ _ Fine _ , but he's only gonna be pissed off I showed up where he's hiding.”

Max's smile is terrifying and brilliant. Billy can't help but feel like he's walking into a trap. 

“Then what the fuck are you doing on your ass? Shower, clean up-- but don't shave. You'll wanna look desperate.” Max tells him as she rounds the kitchen island to tug him to his feet. “Make him feel bad for running off, you know?”

“Wow, glad to know I look that shitty.”

Which, like, he knows he  _ does, _ but she doesn't have to  _ say _ it. 

Max ushers him back, down the hall toward the shower, and she's waiting for him when he finally gets out. She seems eager, in a way that isn't normal, but he puts on the shirt and jeans she throws at him, sighing all the while. 

“You're not gonna like,  _ tell _ me what I'm walking into, are you?”

“Nope. You get to figure that out all by yourself.”

Billy rolls his eyes and then lets himself slump against the wall. He's suddenly so  _ tired _ . Maybe he can just go back to bed. “You know, this isn't  _ funny _ Max. It's not fun. It's  _ shit _ . It's not some fucking game.”

Max's face softens. She knocks her fist into his shoulder, the way he used to knock his against her, lips pursed.

“I know it's not a game. But Steve makes you happy. And you're my big dumb brother. So, I'm here to give you a kick in the pants, to tell you where he is, and to make sure you go get him.” Max sighs again, huffing her hair out of her face. “Guy just confessed his undying love for you. Of course he's gonna hide. He's terrified he ruined your friendship or whatever. So. We're gonna stop him from doing anything _ dumb _ .”

Billy takes a second to breathe, head lulling against the wall. “ _ You're _ not gonna do anything dumb, are you?”

“Besides locking you two in a room together? No.”

Billy sighs. Again. “You really think locking  _ Steve _ in a room is a good idea?”

“Alone? Of course not. With you? As long as I'm out of earshot.” Max gives him a grin that looks too much like his own, digging into her pocket and tossing something at his chest. “I even bought you  _ that _ .”

Billy nearly chokes when he sees it's a bottle of lube. 

“I hear makeup sex is, like,  _ really good _ .”

“Okay, get out,” Billy says, disgruntled as hell. “Out out out.” Pushing her toward the door. 

Obviously, he puts the lube in his pocket but, like, he's not gonna sleep with Steve at Dustin's. And he's probably not gonna sleep with Steve  _ anyway _ , because the last two weeks have been  _ so shitty _ , he can't imagine anything actually going  _ right _ for once.   

Once he's dressed, he steps out, and Max is waiting there for him. She musses up his hair with her fingers, even as he swats at her hands. 

“Alright. Let's go get your boyfriend.”

The ride to Dustin's ridiculous little studio apartment in Pacific Beach seems impossibly long and incredibly short. There's an Italian place nearby Steve's taken Billy to; they project movies against the wall at night, serve water out of glass bottles, and have a fountain made of Mason jars. It's one of the most hipster places he's been, but the margarita pizza is killer, and Billy just hopes he gets a chance go with Steve there again. 

Dustin answers the door, curls everywhere, and sighs when he sees them. “Thank  _ god. _ I thought I was gonna have to call reinforcements.”

“Where is he?” Billy asks, in favor of just telling Dustin to shut up. He’s too  _ tired _ for any of this, muscles all complaining about doing anything other than lying on the couch all day. 

His stomach is  _ rolling _ in his gut, but he thinks if he were to try and turn around right now, Max would break his kneecaps and leave him for dead, so. 

“Kitchen table  _ using all my data for a hotspot!”  _ Dustin half tells him, half yells over his shoulder. 

“Get bent!”

Dustin grins, but it's a tight thing. And then he steps aside. 

“Breakfast, Mad Max?”

“I already ate.”

“That's stopped you before?”

Max shrugs. “True. Ditch ‘em?”

“Let's.”

And then Dustin is stepping out of the place, leaving the door open, patting Billy on the shoulder. “Don't break anything.”

“Whatever,” Billy says, pushing past Dustin to make his way into the kitchen, following muscle memory to get there.

His stomach  _ churns _ when he spots Steve’s hair, the slope of his shoulders.

Billy slides in across from him before Steve can get a chance to say  _ no _ .

“Hey,” Billy says.

Steve looks up sharply from the laptop in front of him. He's got his glasses on, but Billy can see the shadows under his eyes, the faint scruff on his jaw, and when Steve looks at him, he goes a little pale or maybe a little green. 

“Baby--"

“I've been looking at houses,” Steve says, and he shuffles the papers around. “Not far, but-- but, so, I can… uh. So, I can get out of your hair. There's some really good ones in the area--”

Which is -- honestly --  _ just as bad _ as Billy thought it would be.

Billy reaches over with two fingers and pushes Steve’s laptop closed.

“You wanna like, at least  _ talk _ to me before you do something that dumb?”

Steve shrinks back a little, clearing his throat. “I mean, obviously I'd help out with the rent until you found someone new.”

“ _ Steve _ ,” Billy says. “Can you just -- can you listen to me for like  _ two _ seconds?”

Steve's jaw flexes. He gives a little nod but doesn't look at him. 

Billy doesn’t know  _ how _ to say it.

It feels too late, too raw, too inconsequential now.

What if it means  _ nothing _ ? What if it changes nothing?

“Steve Harrington, I fucking love you. Don’t  _ leave _ .”

Steve blinks up at him, breath stalling, and he purses his lips. “Billy. Please, don't lie.”

“Can you  _ not _ tell me how I feel?” Billy says. “I'm not  _ lying _ .”

“You don't-- you don't have to  _ do this _ .”

“Yeah, I  _ do _ ,” Billy says, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I didn't tell you how I felt for way too long. I should have, but I didn't. And now you won't  _ believe  _ me.”

“Then why--" Steve cuts himself off, nose wrinkling up.  “You said it was casual.”

Billy sighs. “I did. Because I thought that's what you wanted to hear. So yeah, I guess  _ that _ was a lie.”

Steve is impossibly still. Usually, he's jittery. Everywhere. All over the place.

Right now, he's staring at Billy, and it's as if he's barely breathing. 

“Why didn't-- why didn't you just _ tell me?” _

And yeah, okay, now the  _ guilt _ is hitting him. The gnawing regret. “Because I was  _ scared _ . Because I didn't want to fuck things up. I didn't want to lose you.”

“Lose me?”

Billy shrugs. “I didn't want you to, I don't know, feel uncomfortable or whatever. And like, I  _ know _ I should've said something, but I was just -- scared.”

Steve frowns. “Billy. How _ long _ have you been in love with me?”

Billy makes a noise. “Does it  _ matter _ ?”

“ _ Jesus _ ,” Steve closes his eyes, pulling his glasses off, and rubs at his forehead. “God, Billy, I-- this is so fucked up.”

Steve's not  _ wrong.  _

“Would it matter if I said a month? Would it matter if I said a year? Jesus, would it  _ matter _ if I said I’ve loved you since high school?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Steve breathes, hands dropping, eyes wide. “Jesus, Billy, why didn't you _ tell me _ ? Why would you  _ torture _ yourself like that? If you had just _ said _ , I would've been yours in an _ instant _ , but you  _ didn't _ , you said it _ wasn't serious _ , and now we're  _ here _ .”

“Yeah,  _ well _ ,” Billy says, hands clenching a little on the table into fists. “I  _ didn’t  _ do that, so.” He sighs, even though it’s  _ pointless _ , because Steve’s smart, he already  _ knows _ : “I didn’t  _ say _ it was any of those.”

Steve gives him a  _ look _ , one that says  _ don't be stupid,  _ frustrated and annoyed and maybe a little hurt. He sighs too, slumping back in his chair. 

“This is such a fucking  _ mess _ .”

“I’m sorry,” Billy says, because it needs to be said, because he  _ is _ sorry. “I should have told you, but I didn’t. I didn’t know  _ how _ and I didn’t want to  _ lose _ you.” He swallows and then swallows again, trying to keep his heart from trying to claw its way out of his throat. “Can you just come  _ home _ ?”

For a long moment, Steve just _ looks _ at him. For a long moment, Billy thinks maybe Steve will say _ no _ . 

“Yes,” Steve says. “We've got a lot to talk about.”

Billy’s never heard the phrase  _ we’ve got to talk _ and had anything  _ good _ come out of it, so  _ that _ doesn’t leave his gut feeling at all appeased.

“About  _ what _ ?” Billy asks. “I don’t have anything else to say other than  _ I love you _ and  _ please come home _ .”

Maybe also:  _ Please don’t leave _ , but Billy can’t even bring himself to say that out loud for fear breathing it into existence. 

Steve raises a slow brow. Billy's reminded, briefly, that Steve once was the king of an entire town, in his own way.

“You really wanna, what? Go back, fall into each other's arms, and forget all this? We have to _ talk _ , Billy. We have to figure out what _ we are _ , okay? Boundaries and labels and everything that goes with it. Because I don't wanna  _ feel _ like this again.”

Billy’s the one who tried to come along and snatch that crown off of Steve’s head, just because he was too scared to admit his own feelings. Because he didn’t know how to  _ deal _ .

He still  _ doesn’t _ .

“Well, do you wanna date me?” Billy asks. “That seems pretty clear-cut to me.”

“Yes,” Steve says. “Do _ you _ wanna date _ me?” _

“ _ Yes _ ,” Billy says. “Obviously yes.”

“Okay,” Steve nods, a little slow. “Then we're dating.”

“ _ And _ ?” Billy asks. “What else? What else before we can just  _ forget _ this?”

Even though Billy  _ knows _ it’s not that easy,  _ knows _ they both can’t just  _ skip over  _ this like it never happened. As much as he wants to try. 

Steve's shoulders draw up a little. “You gotta understand, Billy-- you're it. If we're dating, if you're mine and I'm yours-- then, you're it. It's all or nothing, for me, and if you thought I was clingy before, you've got no idea, because I'm gonna want to take you out and have everyone _ know _ , I want everyone to know, and sometimes it's _ too much _ \--”

“That’s not too much,” Billy says, interrupting Steve. “It’s not too much. I just want  _ you _ , Steve. Jesus, you’re all I’ve wanted for fucking  _ years _ .”

No use in pretending otherwise, now. 

Steve sucks in a short breath and nods again. His eyes are a little wide on Billy's face, but he wets his lips and clears his throat and presses on. 

“I just-- We have to _ talk _ to each other. I'm not good with words, so-- so I know it's hard. But. But we  _ have to _ because if we don't we'll end up right back _ here.” _

“Look, it’s not like I have any  _ other _ secrets.”

“It's not--" Steve drags a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “Okay. So. If I go out and flirt with someone at a bar, will you get mad knowing I'll be coming home to you? What about when we go out together? Do you wanna hold my hand or not touch me at all? Do you--?”

“Do you  _ want _ to go out and flirt with someone at a bar?” Billy asks. “Because that’s all nuanced and shit, isn’t it? As long as you don’t wanna  _ get _ with anyone else, as long as you’re coming home to me, I wouldn’t  _ care _ . But -- I want everything with you, Steve. I want it all. And I want you to be happy. I’m willing to do  _ whatever _ to make you happy.”

“And I want  _ you _ to be happy,” Steve says. “So, it's shit we'll need to talk about.”

“I don’t wanna share you,” Billy says. “And I’ve got no intention of sleeping with anyone else. Haven’t, since we started  _ this _ .”

Steve lets out a breath. “You already know I haven't either. I'd pick you-- I'd always pick you-- over anybody else.”

Billy reaches out across the table, hand open, wondering why the  _ hell _ he hadn’t done this earlier.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says. “For not telling you. For feeling  _ guilty _ about the whole thing and trying to set you up with some chick. I’m sorry for all of it, baby.”

Steve nods and carefully, tentatively, reaches out and places his hand in Billy's. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you it was eating me up, pretending like that. I'm sorry I yelled at you.”

“For the record, it was eating me up, too,” Billy says.

In for a penny, and all. 

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “We're dumb.”

“How long?” Billy asks. “How long have you --?”

Steve shrugs. “Not as long as you, but… long enough.”

“We’re a fucking  _ pair _ ,” Billy says.

“Yeah,” Steve's fingers twitch in his. “So.”

“Can I kiss you?” Billy asks. “Have we talked  _ enough _ ?”

Steve shudders. “Yes.”

Billy doesn’t even remember pushing up from the table, doesn’t even remember making his way around to Steve’s side. He  _ does _ remember the way he gets his fingers on Steve’s face, the moment of hesitation before he presses his lips to Steve’s. 

Steve presses into him. Kisses him back, instantly and sweetly, lips parting and hands coming up to curl into his shirt. 

“Baby,” Billy whispers against Steve’s lips, before kissing him a little harder, unable to  _ stop _ . 

Steve whines against his mouth, tugging him down, reeling him in closer. He curves his hand at Billy's nape, fingers threading through the hair at the base of his skull. 

Billy  _ melts _ into it, a soft noise slipping out of his throat. All of the fatigue fades away from his bones as he kisses Steve, as Billy’s fingers slide over his stubbled cheeks. 

It’s so  _ good _ , so welcome. So much like a cool drink of water on a too-hot summer day: necessary and refreshing. Like being reminded he’s alive. 

“ _ Billy,”  _ Steve breathes into his mouth, rocking up a bit to meet him, kiss for kiss. “Take me  _ home _ .”

“We’ll have to take your car, baby. Max drove me here.”

But, like,  _ yes _ .  

“I need to get my things,” Steve says, eyes flitting between Billy's, not quite letting him go yet. 

Billy pulls Steve up from the chair with the intent of urging him along, but ends up  _ rushing _ him, now that Steve is standing. So close. So touchable. So  _ Billy's.  _

Billy pushes forward, fast, and catches Steve, kissing him like he  _ means _ it, like he's wanted to do for  _ weeks _ now. Like he just can't breathe without his lips on Steve's. 

They stumble a bit. Knock into the chair and Steve  _ laughs _ against his _ mouth _ and then  _ moans _ all soft and sweet when Billy tugs him closer. 

Steve fists his fingers into Billy's hair in reply, arching as Billy wraps him up in his arms. 

The wall comes up behind Steve before Billy even notices it, bumping against it with his arms before he's pressing Steve back, even though he's trapping himself, too. He just wants to get  _ closer  _ to Steve, to have everything he can and  _ more _ . 

“I  _ missed  _ you,” Billy says, against Steve's lips. 

“Me too,” Steve mutters, kissing the corner of his mouth, his chin, his jaw. “So much, Billy.”

“I thought you were gone forever,” Billy says. “I thought I  _ lost _ you.”

“I left my dictionary there,” Steve tells him. “Of  _ course _ I was gonna come back. Eventually. After dying of embarrassment.”

Billy kisses him quiet. Because Steve doesn't  _ need _ a dictionary. Doesn't need to die of embarrassment, either. 

“I love you,” he says, pulling back “There were  _ so many _ times I wanted to tell you.”

Steve's breath shudders right out of him and his fingers tighten in Billy's hair. “Then, tell me now. Make up for it now.”

“I love you,” Billy says, and presses his lips to Steve's forehead. “I love you,” he says as he kisses Steve’s cheek, and again with the other. “I love you.” His lips. His jaw. His nose. His ears. 

Steve's eyes flutter shut, head falling back against the wall, lips parting as Billy presses kisses to his skin. “I love you, too. So much, Billy.”

It's like a dream, hearing Steve say it. Like some impossible fantasy come true. 

“Wanna go home,” Billy says, wanting nothing more than to just be as close to Steve as possible. But he can't, not in this place that isn't  _ theirs _ . 

“Let me get my things. We'll go.”

Billy pulls himself away, just  _ barely _ . “You  _ could  _ just leave them.”

“That means I'd have to come _ back _ for them.” Steve says. 

“Yeah, at  _ some point _ ,” Billy says. 

Steve groans. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Take me home.”

Billy thinks  _ maybe _ he's being silly and  _ maybe  _ he's being rash -- and he's  _ definitely _ being greedy -- but he just can't  _ help _ it. He needs Steve, wants to bring Steve  _ home.  _

“Keys,” Billy says, guiding Steve toward the door, tugging him along. “I'll drive. You drive too slow.”

Digging his keys out of his pocket, Steve passes them to him and lets Billy pull him out the door, down the stairs, and toward his car. 

They don't  _ quite _ make it to the car before Billy's catching Steve in another kiss, pulling him close.  Distracted and greedy, like he's scared he's going to wake up at any moment. 

Steve curves back, almost like he's trying to arch away-- but his arms drape over Billy's shoulders, fingers digging into Billy's shirt and giving a little pull.  

Billy moves the way Steve's pulling, toward the car, walking him backward toward it, refusing to break the kiss. 

Grunting when his back hits the passenger door, Steve licks into Billy's mouth. A hand drops to Billy's hip, and Steve gives another tug until Billy is plastered against him, pressing him flush to the car as Steve sucks at his tongue like a filthy, desperate  _ promise. _

Billy knows, he  _ knows _ , that they're outside in broad daylight, but he just can't bring himself to  _ care _ . 

He presses in, body rolling against Steve as he pushes him against the car, as he groans into Steve's mouth, loud and needy. Steve seems to swallow it and then pulls away, gasping.

“ _ Billy--” _

Billy  _ missed _ him. The reality of it all is so hard to ignore now, so hard to try and push to the side for long enough to truly pull himself away from Steve. 

Billy gets his arms around him, presses his face to Steve's neck, and just  _ holds _ him. In a way he never would have done a year ago, wouldn't have even done a couple months ago. 

“Baby,” he says, against Steve's skin. 

Steve strokes down his spine, cards his fingers through his hair, presses a kiss to his temple. He's warm, steady, against him. Always. 

“I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere without you.”

“You sure?” Billy asks. “I was a fucking  _ dick _ .”

“That's kind of your status quo, isn't it?” Steve asks, and Billy can feel his grin pressed to his temple. 

“I mean  _ yeah _ ,” Billy says, because it  _ is _ true. “Let's go home,” Billy says, attempting, once more, to separate himself from Steve. 

“Okay,” Steve kisses him on the cheek. 

Billy doesn't even  _ remember  _ driving home, doesn't remember the silence in the car or the way his heart pounded out fearfully, like just because he wasn't kissing Steve it would all just fall apart. 

He  _ does _ remember Steve's hand on his, fingers laced together, both of them unwilling to let go. 

At least the apartment is clean, Billy thinks, as he opens the door for both of them to press inside. It's just the recycling bin, full of  _ too much _ booze, that's truly embarrassing. 

Steve doesn't let go, even as he walks in and falters. When Billy looks at him, his mouth is pressed thin, his shoulders hunched up, his brow pinched. 

He looks _ scared _ . He looks like he isn't sure he belongs there. 

“Steve?” Billy asks, giving his hand a bit of a tug. 

Steve's eyes dart to his. “Are you  _ sure _ ?”

“Am  _ I _ sure? I've loved you since I was like,  _ seventeen _ , baby. Of course I'm sure. I've always wanted this. Always wanted  _ you _ .” Billy swallows and squeezes his hand. Takes a breath. “I think the question is: are  _ you _ sure?”

Steve shudders, eyes a little wide, lips a little parted. “Since you were seventeen?”

Billy grunts. He hadn't  _ exactly  _ meant to  _ say _ that. 

“I mean --” he tries to  _ think  _ of some sort of explanation, but can't quite stop himself from coming up short, anyway. So, he just decides to shrug his shoulders and go for broke: “Yeah.”

Steve's fingers go _ tight  _ in his. “ _ Jesus _ , Billy.”

“To be  _ fair _ ,” Billy says. “It was maybe more infatuation.”

But then he remembers the way Steve could brighten up his day just by quipping back, by giving as good as he got. The way just  _ seeing _ Steve could make Billy's heart pound right out of his chest. He shrugs again. 

“Still,” Steve shuffles a little, further into their apartment. “That's a long time to love someone.”

Billy follows him, hesitant, like he's somehow gonna spook Steve and start him running. 

“Guess so. Never really worried too much about it. You were so -- unattainable. It was just -- life, I guess.” He bites his lip, tilts his head. “Got harder to ignore recently, though.”

“Unattainable?” 

“Like, why would  _ you _ ever love  _ me _ back?” Billy says, like it's obvious. 

Which it  _ is _ . 

Steve makes a face. “Well. I mean, why would you ever love _ me _ back? Or-- or  _ at all _ ?”

“Because you're like,  _ you _ ,” Billy says. “You're pretty much perfect, even though you think you're  _ not _ . I'm  _ me _ , baby. I bashed your face in, too, which -- couldn't have done wonders.”

“I mean, yeah, that part kinda sucked but-- but it was  _ forever _ ago, Billy. We've been friends longer than you ever hated me, or whatever.” Steve says. 

“I never really hated you. Hated that you made me hate myself, maybe.” He still shrugs. “Didn't think you'd ever be able to even like me enough to be friends, honestly.  I was a  _ dick _ , Steve. Why would you ever have liked who I was?”

“I didn't. I was very anti-Billy, for a _ while _ , if you remember.” Steve says, and then shrugs. “But I still had to see you every day. Still had to play ball with you. It's hard to hate someone you talk to all the time-- cuz, regardless of popular belief, you weren't  _ always _ a dick. And then-- well, I dunno, the more we got to know one another, the less of an asshole you were, you know?”

“Still,” Billy says. “All I'm sayin is that I never thought it would happen.”

“But it did,” Steve says. “And-- and now I just wanna know you're _ sure _ .”

“I'm damn fucking sure,” Billy says. 

“Because, like, it’s  _ fine _ if you-- if you  _ don’t want me _ .  Like, it would  _ suck _ , but-- I’d  _ live _ and… and I was looking at  _ houses _ and I kept thinking about how much you would like the  _ shower _ in some of them and--” 

“Why don’t you  _ believe _ me?” Billy asks, trying to ignore the growing frustration in his stomach. “Why do you always think I’m  _ lying _ ? I’ve never lied to you. I’ve only ever -- just not told you something I didn’t think you’d want to hear.”

“It’s not-- Billy.  I don’t think you’re  _ lying _ , okay?  Not-- not like you think I mean it.” Steve sighs, and his gaze falls, and he turns a little, faces him proper, ears red and weight shifting.  “I, um… my therapist calls it a  _ lack of self-worth _ ?  I don’t think you don’t love me.  I think-- I think I’m not  _ worth loving _ , okay?” 

“Well, you absolutely  _ are _ ,” Billy says. “And I’m sure. About all of it.”

“Okay,” Steve nods, throat working.  “Okay.” 

Billy reaches for Steve’s hands and then pulls him closer, urging him forward, hoping Steve will take the last couple of Steps toward Billy. “You’re perfect, baby. And if you want me, if you truly want me, then I’m the luckiest goddamn guy on this planet.”

Steve's face softens and he shuffles forward. “Of course I want you, Billy. I  _ love _ you.”

Billy gets Steve in his arms, hold loose around him. “Good. I love you too, baby.”

Steve's smile is small but  _ warm _ . “I'm glad to be home. Dustin's futon  _ sucks.” _

“Yeah, well. Everything here sucks without you.” 

Billy’s been sleeping on the  _ couch _ , because he can’t bear to sleep in his own bed alone.

Steve snorts. “Bet you fit in the shower just fine.”

Billy shrugs. “Everything sucks without you,” he repeats.

Because it  _ does _ . Sure, he fits in the shower and he doesn’t drip water, like,  _ everywhere _ when he showers because there’s no limbs flailing out, but it’s not  _ good.  _ None of it is good.

If Steve had  _ left _ , for good, Billy probably couldn’t have stayed here. He wouldn’t have been able to keep going like he had been. 

Billy noses at Steve’s neck, just breathing him in. Savoring it. 

Steve lets him. Always lets him. Tilts his head and lets him press his face, his mouth there. Reaches up and drags his fingers through Billy's curls.

“Slept on the couch,” Billy says. “Missed you so fucking much, couldn’t sleep in my bed.”

He’d even tried to sleep in  _ Steve’s _ bed, but that had felt too wrong, too needy, too fucked up.

“I'm right here, baby.” Steve says. “We can sleep wherever you want.”

Billy hums, happy. Still unable to truly believe that he’s got Steve in his arms like this. “Love you, baby. Missed you.”

Steve laughs. “I know. So what the fuck are you gonna do about it?”

Billy pulls back. He  _ looks _ at Steve, going a little wide eyed, like he's been so damn  _ caught up _ in trying to figure out if this was all going to be  _ okay _ that he'd never even  _ considered.  _

Somewhere, his past self is laughing at him. 

Billy gets his hands on Steve's face, cradling his cheeks fondly for a moment before he leans in and kisses him. Gentle at first, but not lacking in passion. 

“Wanna show you,” Billy says in between kisses. “Wanna show you how much I missed you.”

Steve hums against his mouth, eyes half lidded, hands almost hesitant on his hips. He tilts his head, lingers a little longer. Lets out a soft moan when Billy kisses him  _ harder _ . 

“I thought it would be weird,” Steve admits, against his mouth. “Kissing you again. Once you knew. It's _ better _ .”

“ _ So  _ much better,” Billy agrees. It's like Steve knows what it means now, understands the depth of what Billy's trying to pour into his kisses. 

He presses forward, walking Steve back a few steps as he kisses him. Aiming for -- any place that isn't basically the doorway of their apartment.

Steve shuffles back, a hand fisted in his shirt to keep him steady. 

Billy snakes one of his arms around Steve -- he's never let him fall -- unless he was falling with him, down into a bed. Which --  might not be a bad idea. 

“Whose room?” Billy says, walking Steve backwards toward the rooms. 

“ _ Yours _ ,” Steve says, tugging him closer, further down the hall. “Always, yours.”

“My bed’s better,” Billy says with a smirk, following Steve's lead. Unable to resist going where Steve puts him. Always loving the push and pull of them vying for that bit of an edge. “Even better with you in it, though.”

Steve huffs. “Don't get cocky. My bed cost, like, six hundred dollars.”

“Okay, well,” Billy says, shoving Steve a little bit through his door. “Shut me up, then?”

Steve cants his head, like Billy is a  _ puzzle, _ and then he jerks him _ closer _ . “With my mouth on yours or on your cock?”

Billy kisses him, diving forward to  _ take _ . He pulls back after just a  _ taste _ though, grinning. “I mean, I can't promise I'll shut up with  _ your _ mouth on my cock, but we can  _ try _ .”

Steve lifts a brow. “Bet we can do better than _ try _ .”

And then he's on his knees, in Billy's room, undoing the button of his jeans and working the fly down. The prettiest thing Billy's ever seen, looking up at him from the floor, eyelashes dark and eyes _ darker.  _

“God,  _ baby _ ,” Billy says, his fingers sneaking into that gorgeous hair. “You're so pretty. And you're all mine.”

He's  _ aching  _ already, especially with the heat of Steve's breath on him as Steve frees his cock from his pants, the feeling of Steve's fingers wrapping around him. Steve doesn't hesitate to get his mouth on him. Tongues at the head and sucks. Moans like it's the best damn thing he's ever tasted.

Always putting on a show. 

Billy loves it. But he also just wants  _ Steve _ . Doesn’t need a show. Just wants it all to be real.

“Baby,” Billy says, fingers in Steve’s hair, pulling him off just a bit. “Just want you,” Billy says, unsure exactly how he’s supposed to  _ articulate _ that.

Steve pulls off with a little gasp. Pants as he braces his hands on Billy's thighs and stares up at him. 

And Billy  _ doesn’t _ know how to phrase it, but he  _ does _ know how to bring out the best in Steve.

Which is, to say, to try and bring out his competitive streak.

“I’m pretty sure I’m still  _ talking _ ,” Billy says, “clearly you’re not  _ trying _ hard enough.”

With a sudden push, Steve pins Billy's hips back against the open door. It clatters, door knob probably denting the plaster, but then Steve's mouth is on him again. Warm and wet and _ perfect.  _ Steve takes like it's _ nothing _ . Swallows him down and hollows his cheeks, throat working around him. 

If the door hadn't been there to catch him and the shove hadn't been enough to knock him over, the sheer heat of Steve's mouth would've knocked him clean off his feet. 

It's so much so fast that Billy  _ groans _ , loud and desperate, hand fisting in Steve's hair like he can steady himself that way as Steve's head bobs, as he licks, as he swallows. 

“God you're so good, baby,” Billy says, voice low. “Look at you. So fucking pretty like this.”

Steve  _ hums _ around him. It's like pure bliss. Raw and unabashed. And it _ doesn't stop. _

Steve's hands curl around, dip under his jeans, fingers digging into the muscle of his ass to pull him closer. To let him deeper into his mouth. Sloppy and hot and  _ messy _ . 

Billy moans, any words getting caught up thick on his tongue. 

Steve is so  _ perfect _ . Billy can't help but take a little bit, urged forward with the heat of Steve's hands on his ass -- a polite invitation if he's ever seen one. 

He gets his fingers tangled in Steve's hair even more and thrusts, savoring all of Steve's little noises, the wet sound of him sliding into slick warmth, the thump of his back occasionally hitting the door.  

Steve works him over until he's gasping. Until he's got something white hot and perfect curling in his gut. Until he's on the edge and barely hanging on. 

“Baby,” Billy warns him, “ _ baby _ ,” fingers tangling in Steve's hair, trying to pull him off. 

Billy's not  _ like _ Steve. Can't just be worked over until he's loose and fucked out. Can't just  _ keep going _ . 

And he wants this to  _ last _ . 

Steve makes him  _ wait _ .  Makes him dig his fingers into his hair, clinging to the edge, gasping. Makes him think he's not going to let up-- until he does.

He pulls off gasping, panting, mouth a mess, eyes dark-- and wraps his fingers firm around the base of him, squeezing. “Not yet,  _ baby. _ ”

Billy’s on the goddamn razor’s edge of it -- But Steve knows him too well. Knows just how he ticks. 

So when Steve grins up at him, lips all beautifully slick with spit and fingers still around the base of Billy's dick, Billy  _ whines _ . 

He's  _ shaking _ with it, the need, the want, the desperate frustration. 

He hadn't wanted to a moment ago and now it's all his body wants. 

“God, fuck,  _ Steve _ , you're so --” he groans again. 

“Good?” Steve asks, licking at where Billy is leaking precome.

Billy  _ whimpers _ . It's truly embarrassing. And Steve isn't really discouraged by the way Billy pulls at his hair. 

“Baby,  _ please _ .”

He doesn't even know what he  _ wants _ . 

“Please, what?” Steve looks up at him, loosens his grip, and gives a long, soft stroke. “Please, stop? Please,  _ don't _ stop?”

Billy full-body shudders. 

“I don't  _ know _ ,” he says. “Whatever. Anything. Anything you want.”

He wants whatever Steve wants. 

“I want  _ everything _ . I want you to come on my face and in my _ mouth _ . I want you to fuck me until I can't remember my _ name _ . I want everything, Billy.” Steve says, and then he takes him back into his mouth, strokes over him with a slick hand, and  _ sucks _ .

Billy doesn't stand a goddamn chance. 

He's over the edge before he can even realize it, emptying himself into Steve's mouth, and then belatedly, dazedly, pulling himself back so that he can paint Steve's lips with the remainder of his come. 

“Fuck,  _ baby, _ ” Billy groans, knees weak. Body shaking. 

Steve breathes heavy, mouth a lovely mess, and he coaxes Billy down, gives him something to lean on. 

When Billy  _ truly  _ focuses again, eyes going clear, brain unfogging, Steve's on his knees in front of him -- and Billy's on his knees, too. 

Steve's  _ oh so slowly _ thumbing come off his face and  _ licking _ it from the pad of his thumb with that pink tongue. 

“Oh _ fuck _ ,” Billy says, and just  _ watches _ for a little while. 

“Guess you missed me pretty bad, huh?” Steve asks, after _ popping _ his thumb out of his mouth. “Usually you don't get _ that _ tongue tied--”

Steve's  _ got _ most of the come off him by the time he talks, but he  _ missed  _ a spot, so Billy leans over and kisses the corner of his lip for him. And then sucks Steve's lower lip for good measure for a second. 

“Shove it, baby. You're too hot for your own good.”

Steve sighs against his mouth like it's  _ heaven _ . Reels him in by the shirt and steals another. 

And Billy doesn't  _ complain _ \-- but he does shove forward and wrestle Steve onto the ground, down onto his back with Billy on top of him. 

“I'm gonna fuck you until you stop being so  _ cocky _ ,” Billy says. 

“I  _ think _ we agreed it was until I forget my own _ name _ , but-- I mean, I'll take it.” Steve says, grinning up at him, hair a mess on the floor. 

Billy's eyes  _ roll _ , but he's  _ grinning _ and kissing Steve, caught up in the joy of it, the levity. The relief. 

“You're too fucking much.”

“Yeah, but-- you  _ love _ me.”

“I  _ do _ ,” Billy says. “I love you so fucking much.”

Then, Billy kisses his lips, his cheek, his neck. Working his way across Steve's skin. Savoring the sweet way he tastes, all the little soft sounds he starts making. 

Steve goes _ soft _ under him. Like melted butter. Pliant and giving in a way Billy only ever sees Steve get _ with him _ . Lips parting as he gasps in a little breath, eyes fluttering, hands stroking through Billy's hair with a gentle idleness. 

“I love you,” he sighs as Billy kisses his pulse. 

Billy echoes it as he lets his lips linger, just feeling Steve's heartbeat on his skin. 

“Think I wanna get you on the bed,” Billy says. “As hot as you are, spread out on the floor…” He kisses Steve's neck. “This would be better on a mattress.”

“ _ Please _ ,” Steve whispers, tightening his fingers in Billy's hair. 

Billy gets up and then pulls Steve with him, hefting him off the ground until Steve is standing there in the middle of Billy’s room, still  _ way _ too clothed. So Billy works on that, peeling both of them out of the remainder of their clothes, leaving kisses on every bit of Steve’s skin he uncovers. Then, once they’re both good and naked, and Billy feels like he’s worshiped Steve’s skin enough while  _ standing _ , he backs Steve toward the bed with warm hands urging him along.

“How do you want me?” Billy asks. 

Steve groans, hands _ everywhere _ , like he doesn't know where to touch him first. “On top of me. I wanna _ feel _ you.”

And yeah, Billy can  _ do _ that.

He lays Steve back against the bed and then crawls over top of him, kissing along his skin as he goes. Marking each mole with a kiss, each heartbeat with a press of his lips. 

Billy lays a hand on his lube, swiping it from his bedside drawer, and kisses Steve as he slides a hand between his legs. He eats up the little noise Steve makes as Billy teases him for a moment, and then presses his first finger in, so slow,  _ teasing _ . 

Steve bucks, hips twitching, a delicious and delightful sound escaping him. He's tense for a long second, and then easy again, breath stalling as Billy works him open. 

He's tight. Tighter than usual. 

“Baby,” Billy says, his finger going  _ slow.  _ “Relax for me, huh? I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Sorry,” Steve breathes. “Just-- I guess it's been a while.”

Billy crooks his finger. 

“Hasn’t been  _ that _ long, baby. Ya gotta relax. Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna make you forget your name, that’s what I’m supposed to do, right?”

Steve moans, arching slow and helpless. His breath comes in short, heavy pants. His fingers curl into the sheets. 

“ _ Yeah _ ,” he sighs, rocking with him, nodding. 

It’s a little while before Steve loosens up enough for Billy to work another finger into Steve. He does it  slowly, perhaps torturously so -- just so that he can savor all of the noises that he works out of Steve, eating each up with short little kisses. 

Steve is so tight. So hot. So wet.

Billy can’t wait to get inside him. But he wants Steve to be nice and loose before Billy pushes inside.

So he curls his fingers again. Until Steve’s cock is  _ dripping _ against his stomach.

Until Steve is choking on a whine, eyes rolling back as he tries to catch his breath. Until he's rutting, hips flexing, riding down onto Billy's fingers. Wet and easy, but fluttering, spasming, with the shock of pleasure. 

“ _ God _ , Billy,  _ please. _ ” Steve huffs, head lulling, body straining-- so beautiful, so perfect. 

“You want another?” Billy asks. “You  _ ready _ for another?”

“Please,  _ yes _ , please.”

Billy obliges. 

Works his fingers out, gets them nice and slick, and then pushes them back in. Breaching Steve slow, just hovering right inside Steve, so he can savor the stretch. 

“ _ God _ ,” Steve gasps, quivering. “Billy,  _ come on.” _

Billy spreads his fingers a little,  _ just _ to watch Steve squirm. He likes to open up Steve like this, because even though Steve  _ complains _ like hell about it, Billy knows he loves being teased. Just in the same way that Billy always likes it when it hurts just a bit, when it’s right on the edge of pain.

But he doesn’t last  _ too _ long, because soon he’s working his fingers in a little more, and then a little  _ more _ , until Steve is stretched tight around him, breathing heavy, breathing hard. 

Billy catches some of that breath in a kiss.

Steve whines against his mouth. Grips at his shoulders and claws down his back, arching up as he _ takes it _ . 

Always takes Billy so _ well.  _ Ever since that first time, spread over the couch, like he was _ made _ for it. Makes a divine sound as Billy fucks into him with steady, curling fingers. Breaks away from his mouth gasping and jerking. 

“ _ Billy _ , if you don't _ stop--" _

Music to Billy’s ears.

He keeps going. Curls his fingers  _ just so _ . Kisses Steve like he  _ means _ it. 

Steve gasps out a half cry of a thing. Shudders and then jerks, spasms, coming between them with a broken off sound. 

Billy fucks him through it with his fingers, milking every last drop out of him with practiced care. He licks up those noises from Steve’s mouth, savoring the little huffs he makes, the way his body spasms underneath Billy in little spurts. Shivering, like it’s just so good.

It’s good, though, because Billy’s gotten hard again by now. He grinds himself against Steve’s leg as he curls his fingers just a little bit more, just to hear the way Steve  _ groans _ with it.

Steve squirms, toes curling, head falling back as Billy  _ keeps pressing _ . Keeps him right there, on that edge of _ too much _ , until he's whining with each breath, lashes a little wet as he jerks.

“Billy,  _ please _ ,” he whispers, strung tight and lovely as he struggles. “God, please, please,  _ please _ .”

“You sure?” Billy asks, pumping his fingers slowly inside Steve. Dragging it out. “Won't be too much, baby?”

There's no prettier picture in the world than a Steve Harrington who’s had a little  _ too much _ . 

“Yes-- Yes, Billy, please, just--” Steve groans, arching and straining, slurring a little.  “Just--” 

Slowly, Billy pulls his fingers out.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he asks.

When Steve does, Billy kneels in between them and takes a moment to lube himself up, giving himself a few indulgent jerks as he looks down at Steve and  _ admires _ .  He’s flush and panting heavy, fallen lax and welcoming against the mattress.  He’s staring right back at Billy with dark, half-lidded eyes, come on his stomach, sweat on his skin.  

“C’mon,” Steve mumbles, hooking an ankle over one of Billy’s, dragging it up his calf.  “Wanna feel you.  _ Need _ you, Billy.” 

Billy doesn’t need to wait. He doesn’t have the patience, honestly. He wants Steve too --  _ needs _ him, just as bad.

So, Billy lowers himself down and catches Steve’s lips in his own. He lines himself up and then presses in, slow, but unwavering. Until Steve’s heat is yielding to him, until Billy’s  _ surrounded _ and gasping against Steve’s lips.

Steve moans, spine curving up as takes him. Still soft, still  _ spent _ , eyes fluttering as Billy slides home. 

His thighs go tight at Billy's hips, knees drawing in, trying to keep him close as they pant into each other's mouths. 

“Missed you,” Steve breathes. “Missed _ this _ .”

“Missed you too,” Billy says, hips coming to a stop as he bottoms out, hips pressed flush against skin. 

He kisses Steve like he can express that through his lips, through his breath. Like he can apologize for it all by just being this close. 

Steve finds Billy’s hands with his own.  Tangles their fingers, tilts his hips up in a slow rock, lips parting on another breath between lazy kisses.  

“C’mon.   _ C’mon _ , Billy,  _ move _ .” Steve says, shifting beneath him. 

Billy can’t say no to Steve, can  _ never _ say no to Steve -- and he doesn’t  _ want _ to, either. He wants all of this and more, wants passion, wants heat. So, he kisses Steve and  _ moves _ , hips snapping into Steve’s warmth, tongue sliding against slick muscle.

“Baby,” Billy pants against Steve’s lips, “baby, you feel so  _ good _ .”

Steve moans. A bit helpless. A bit  _ lost.  _ He's still soft from his orgasm, twitching and oversensitive as Billy fucks into him. 

“Don't stop,” Steve whispers, clutching at his hands, eyes squeezing shut. “ _ Don't stop _ .”

Billy doesn’t. He keeps going, each spike of pleasure that every thrust gives him, a gift. He never thought he’d have Steve like this again, and now, it’s impossible not to think about it, to let reality overwhelm him.

Steve feels so  _ good _ , so close, so perfect. Billy loses himself in it a little, but snakes a hand between them anyway, to run his fingers over Steve’s length, trying to bring him back, to get him going again. 

“ _ Billy _ ,” Steve sighs, arches, grips at his shoulder and drags his fingers down over the flex of muscles in his back. 

It's all heat. Sweet and a little desperate. Their bodies moving together, steady and not quite slow, but constant. 

Steve fills out under his touch. Under the passage of bliss from his body to Billy's. 

“ _ God _ , don't stop.” Steve moans, lashes fluttering, hips flexing up to meet him. “Don't ever stop.”

Billy wishes he  _ could _ keep going like this for forever. He can try, can hold out for as long as possible. 

He can try, and so he does.

“Can you again?” Billy asks, lips mouthing at Steve’s jawline, teeth grazing the stubble there. “Can you come again for me?” 

Wants to know. Wants to give Steve everything, if he can. 

Steve whines and then gasps. Soft and breathless, right as Billy slides deep. 

“ _ Yes _ ,” he breathes, straining to meet him, toes curling as he nods. “Yes. Anything you want.  _ Yes _ .”

Billy slows down a little, just so that both of them can  _ savor _ it. Drives in real slow and pulls out the same. Gets himself nearly all the way out of Steve’s heat before he slides himself home, deep as he can go, hand working Steve over as he does.

“Wanna make you feel  _ so good _ ,” Billy says. “Wanna feel you come around my cock.”

“God, Billy,” Steve gasps, bucking and going  _ tight _ , pleasure breaking over his face. “Yes.  _ Yes _ .”

They lose time, like that. Meeting in the middle, over and over, pleasure like a slow flame consuming them both. Gasping into each other's mouths. 

Billy can barely breathe by the time he can start to feel it crest, by the time he realizes it  _ can’t _ last for forever. 

Steve is hard underneath his fingers now, hot and dripping against his own stomach, against Billy’s fingers. Billy moves his hand a little faster, tightens his grip  _ just a bit _ and bites at Steve’s lip.

“So close, baby, I’m so close. Want you to come for me.”

Steve nods again, throat working, voice catching on a moan as his fingers dig in at Billy's back and tighten in his own. “Just a little-- just a little more, baby--"

Steve cries out as Billy tilts his hips up. As he drives in that much  _ deeper _ . His head falls back, baring his throat, and he keens.

Billy drives in  _ hard _ .

Gets Steve  _ loud _ , gets him tense, gets him breathing so hard he’s gasping.

“Baby,” Billy pants, lips on Steve’s jaw, his cheek, his lips. Hand, working fast, in time with each thrust. “C’mon, baby. Come for me -- please, Steve, god, you feel so fucking  _ good _ .”

Steve moans, helpless and hanging on.  _ Clinging  _ to the edge, even though he's so obviously  _ there.  _ So  _ close _ . Tight and spasming. Cock  _ weeping _ .

And then Steve's  _ coming _ . Voice breaking over Billy's name. Gasping and seizing up, spilling out, going tight as his eyes roll back and he strains and  _ strains _ .

Billy fucks him through it, unstopping. Unwavering. Steve goes impossibly tight around him, whole body squeezing and spasming around Billy's cock. Perfect and hot and sinful.

Billy doesn’t stand a  _ chance _ .

He’s coming with a grunt the second Steve’s orgasm seems to wane, losing himself in that tight heat, kissing Steve until he knows his own mouth is bruising. 

Steve shudders up under him. Mewls against his lips. Rocks with him until they're both spent.

Billy feels like he’s  _ gone _ . Boneless and braindead, nose pressing in against Steve’s neck to just  _ breathe _ there, trying to catch his bearings. If he wasn’t pressing Steve down against the mattress, he’d feel lost. He’d  _ fall _ .

But it’s okay, because he’s got Steve. Right there, warm and real beneath him. Everything Billy ever wanted. 

“Baby,” Billy says, trying to catch his voice, lips pressing in against Steve’s mole-dotted neck. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Steve breathes, hands dragging over his skin, thighs squeezing at his hips. “So much, Billy.”

Billy pulls a little strength from  _ somewhere _ and lifts his head so he can catch Steve’s lips in a kiss. Gentler than before, but no less passionate.

Craning his head back, Steve kisses back. Licks into his mouth, languid and lazy. Draws it out until they're both gasping again. 

“God. God, I love you.”

Billy threads his fingers through Steve’s hair, savoring the little noises he teases out of Steve with each pass of his nails. He works his love onto his lips and kisses Steve with it again, hoping Steve can taste it, that he just  _ knows  _ how much Billy cares.

Eventually, though, his arms start to shake. Tired, from planking on his elbows for too long without moving. 

But he can’t help but smile, pressing a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth and pulling away. “We should probably shower.”

“In that tiny thing?” Steve asks, smile lopsided. “But you're all elbows.”

“That was  _ one time _ ,” Billy says, his smile just as crooked as he steals another kiss. “Gimme another chance?”

Steve sighs, pleased and soft, against his mouth. “Always.”

“I promise you won’t regret it.”

Steve looks at him, takes his face between his hands, and kisses the corner of his mouth. 

“I know,” he says. “I know I won't.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Songs and shoot:
> 
> Come back when you can - Barcelona


End file.
